


kiss me on the mouth (set me free)

by itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alpha Dan Howell, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not this time anyway, Sort Of, Vampire Phil Lester, Vampire/Werewolf Relationship, Werewolf Dan Howell, Werewolf Puppies, Wolf Pack, what do you mean that's not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23324575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmyusualweeb/pseuds/itsmyusualphannie
Summary: Phil let his posture relax as the wolf came closer. The wolf picked up speed and it almost looked like he was going to bowl over Phil, but at the last instant, there was a terrific tearing noise like the air was being ripped at its seams, and then a lean, curly-haired man with a bright grin was toppling into Phil’s lap.“Hmm,” rumbled the werewolf, slinging his arms around Phil’s neck and leaning in to nuzzle beneath his jaw. “You can’t just whistle when you want me to come over, you know?”“Can’t I?” Phil said slyly, slipping one arm around the wolf’s waist. He smelled rich and earthy. “Because you come over every time I do it, Dan.”Vampires and werewolves don't usually get along, much less form a pack-clan together, but Dan and Phil make it work. When one's the Primus of a massive vampire clan and the other is the Alpha of a close-knit werewolf pack, how couldn't they?
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47
Collections: Phandom Writers Discord 2020 Spring Fic Exchange





	kiss me on the mouth (set me free)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kamunamis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamunamis/gifts).



> written for my phandom discord server's spring fic exchange! i got the prompt 'vampire mafia au' and i...mostly followed it.
> 
> anyway hahahaha this is for [my son kei](https://sudden-sky.tumblr.com/) who i asked to beta this because (late) APRIL FOOLS you beta-ed your own gift fic. love you :)
> 
> also thanks to lou and k for putting up with my special brand of bullshit
> 
> title is from 'bite' by troye sivan

Phil was in a good mood today. He had just eaten, using one of his favourite blood-humans to take a full litre of their blood. He left them swooning in the recovery room and made his way out to the massive chamber room where he spent most of his time, dropping into his massive seat in the centre of one end of the room. His veins sang with the fresh blood, adrenaline a steady _tap-tap_ against his mind, and he was eager to _do_ something.

“Primus?” called one of the elders from a round table on the edge of the room. There were a few of those tables, scattered here and there with chairs for anyone to take a seat. A multiplayer card game was going on at that table.

Phil, sprawled in his seat, raised an eyebrow at the elder. “Hmm?”

“Settle a dispute?” Her call echoed around the room, but the other occupants ignored it. It was spacious, with enormous walls and a sloping ceiling where multiple chandeliers hung. It was a little brighter than Phil liked, but that was because of the wide, elegant windows on the two longer sides of the room.

Sighing, Phil climbed to his feet. This was certainly better than nothing. He crossed the space in an instant with the blood lending him unnatural speed. He peered down at the game, pieces scattered this way and that. The players peered up at him. Most of them were young vampires, but a few were scruffy dark-haired werewolves. There was only one elder at the table, one of the few vamps who had been with Phil from the beginning and had helped form the clan. She gestured now to the game. “You helped make this, right?

Phil tilted his head and studied the game. He had indeed, but it looked like they were playing some sort of variation of the one he had designed almost a hundred years ago. It was bound to change, after all. Regardless of the original rules though, anyone could call upon him to settle an argument. Phil still hadn’t decided whether that was a good or a bad part to being the leader, or Primus, of a vampire clan with well over a hundred vamp members, not to mention the werewolves. “Yes. What’s the problem?”

The elder explained the argument that two of the wolves had been involved in, a complication between the cards’ positions and the shuffling that would commence after the second player took their turn. Phil frowned, considering it, and then gestured to the third player. “You took up the base cards?”

They nodded. “But I didn’t use the extra card. We’re not supposed to do it on the tenth turn, right?”

“No, you’re right.” Phil frowned down at the game, running the tip of his tongue over his sharp incisors, and then pointed at the smaller deck of cards. “Who shuffled that?”

The players exchanged dubious glances, and finally one of the vamps shrugged. “I didn’t think it needed to be - ”

“The second player shuffles that. The third player takes up base cards and redistributes. And the last player shuffles the first deck again. Make sense?”

It took a moment for everyone to comprehend, but finally, heads slowly began nodding. Satisfied, Phil accepted their thanks and then swept back to his seat. He settled in again, gaze travelling over the rest of the room with the other groups at their tables, the quiet discussions that he could easily tune into if he so wished, and finally, he glanced over the massive pile of furs in the corner by the double doors at the other end of the room. 

Even all the way across the room, a good hundred metres away, he could hear the growls and snuffling of the sleeping werewolves piled on the furs. There was even a vamp or two there - he could make out a flash of pale skin here and there as someone sleepily adjusted. Vamps didn’t usually join the wolves’ cuddle piles, but even Phil had done so a few times, and he could admit that, although the warmth of the numerous bodies was almost suffocating, it was quite comforting.

Right now, he was too bored and on edge from his meal to climb into the pile. He squinted at the heap of furs and bodies - and _there_. A fully-shifted werewolf was half-draped over a snoring puppy. He was massive, with the form of an actual wolf but almost three times bigger, and larger than any of the other shifted wolves in the fur pile. His brown fur was curly and wild, scruffed from the squirming and shoving that occurred in any good wolf pile.

Phil smirked, leaning back in his seat, and crossed one leg over the other. There was his entertainment. He lifted two fingers to his lips and whistled sharply, revelling in the piercing sound that echoed throughout the room.

The reaction was instant. The wolves in the pile jolted, heads both humanoid and wolf alike bolting upright, and the wolves at the tables looked at him immediately. The vamps glanced at him, but otherwise seemed unbothered, and Phil could see one of the vamps in the pile grumpily stretch up and drag a wolf back on top of him.

He’d gotten the attention of who he wanted, though. The massive brown-furred wolf tilted his ears toward Phil, then yawned and crawled out of the pile. One of the puppies whined as he left, so he offered them a brief lick on the head. He stretched once he was free, yawning luxuriously and shaking out his coat. His eyes were bright as he trotted down the hall toward Phil, tail waving lazily. His size almost became more intimidating as he approached. He stood higher than the tallest vamp, and he was far bulkier.

Phil let his posture relax as the wolf came closer. He draped his arms over the rests, spreading his legs. The wolf picked up speed and it almost looked like he was going to bowl over Phil and his enormous throne-like chair, but at the last instant, there was a terrific tearing noise like the air was being ripped at its seams, and then a lean, curly-haired man with a bright grin was toppling into Phil’s lap.

“Hmm,” rumbled the werewolf, slinging his arms around Phil’s neck and leaning in to nuzzle beneath his jaw. “You can’t just whistle when you want me to come over, you know?”

“Can’t I?” Phil said slyly, slipping one arm around the wolf’s waist. He smelled rich and earthy. “Because you come over every time I do it, Dan.”

The wolf harrumphed, but he didn’t stop snuffling at Phil’s neck. “I’m a perfectly respectable alpha, see? Head alpha. Leader of the Howell pack. You should be more intimidated.”

“Co-leader,” Phil corrected. He tilted his head, just a little, to give Dan more access, as his gaze trailed over the rest of the room. It was quiet again, other than the delighted yipping of a pup as it crawled over one of the blood-humans lazing on a couch. A warm tongue darted against Phil’s collarbone an instant later and he resisted a shiver.

“Co-leader, fine,” Dan agreed. “But then, I’m co-leader of the Lester vamp clan, too.” He bit down, very gently, at the pale skin over Phil’s jugular. He’d adopted a few of the vampires’ tendencies, and this was one of the more pleasurable. He laughed quietly. “You know, I was talking to one of the new blood-humans earlier. Letting them know about all of our customs and how we run things, right? They said we sound like a human mafia. You know, with the gangs and shit that run around to sell drugs and weapons.”

Phil snorted. “Please, they got the idea from _vampires_. They’ve only started their gangs and clubs in the past few hundred years. We’ve been around for many more centuries.”

Dan bit down once more, his unnaturally sharp canines digging in a little harder this time, until he sat back and pouted at Phil. “I wish you’d bruise more,” he complained.

“I just fed,” Phil pointed out. “You’re just not trying hard enough.”

A spark alit in Dan’s eyes and he ducked his head as if he was going to bite harder, but Phil stopped him with a hand in his face. “Not right now. We have a faery commissary coming in a bit. Besides, I’m not in the mood for your wolf claiming bites right now.”

Dan sulkily licked Phil’s hand. “I can’t help it. It’s my alpha instincts. I need to mark everyone in my pack, and _everyone_ is in my pack now.”

Phil felt something burn in his chest, lighting him up with some furious emotion. He slid his hand around to grip Dan’s curls and tug his head back, forcing Dan to meet his fierce stare. “You might be an alpha,” he purred, “but you’re still my little bitch, huh?”

Dan whined lowly. He met Phil’s gaze for only a moment later before tilting his head up and to the side, resisting Phil’s grip in his hair to bare his throat in submission. Phil let him hold the position for only an instant, then he yanked at Dan’s curls, forcing him back down, and kissed him with a biting ferocity. Dan didn’t shrink from it, a gradual rumble building in his chest as their lips met and parted in dizzying unison.

And then they were interrupted.

“Primus, Alpha, sorry to cut in,” said the silky voice of one of the elders. She was quiet, but she was one that had been with him for the longest, and so she was generally unafraid of either of them.

“What?” snarled Dan, pulling back from Phil. His eyes flashed silver, concealing the usual chocolate colour as he glared at her, and revealing just a hint of his alpha power. Although most of the wolves in the pack could shift, none of them harnessed the power of the true alpha, which allowed Dan not only his towering wolf form, but also another, much more painful shift into a mix between the two forms. Phil had only seen that form a few times, but it also sported those silver eyes and the most terrifying combinations of both his humanoid and wolf forms.

She just blinked slowly, unimpressed. “Your faery commissary is here,” she said. “He’s introduced himself as Prince Obera.”

“Queen Titania’s son?” Phil asked. His fingers were vices around Dan’s hips. He knew that the alpha wouldn’t launch himself at the elder - they were good friends when she wasn’t interrupting him and Phil - but he liked the security and the knowledge that he had the ability to hold in a powerful werewolf with just his hands.

The elder looked dubious. “I suppose. He isn’t accompanied by any attendants, though.”

“Interesting.” Phil considered that. “Well, let him in, I suppose.”

She glanced at Dan, who huffed but nodded, and she tilted her head in acknowledgement, then vanished in a flash. The air whirled around the spot she’d vacated.

Dan grumbled and slid off Phil’s lap. They had no qualms with exhibiting their relationship in front of their pack-clan, but no interest at all letting anyone outside see it, much less a faery. He gestured to the nearest occupied table, and with the commanding motion, one of the wolves clambered to his feet and dragged over an empty chair. Once it was properly situated next to Phil’s tall-backed chair, Dan slumped into it. He eyed a child that was toddling away from its litter-mates, who were piling blocks and they chattered and yipped at each other in both puppy and humanoid forms, and he growled, rumbling a warning. Phil knew that Dan would play with the puppies any time, but not when he wanted to concentrate on a visitor. The toddler stopped in her tracks, recognizing the warning growl for what it was. She pouted heavily, then shifted into a small scruffy puppy and bounded clumsily back to her litter.

The double-wide doors at the other end of the room creaked open. The elder that had spoken to Dan and Phil a moment ago stepped inside, followed by a creature that was a good two feet taller than her, despite her height of almost two metres. It was dark-skinned and beautiful, with long, flowing hair and an unsettling slant to its mouth. The elder led it across the room toward Dan and Phil, and although none of the vamps or wolves paused their activities, a quiet air of watchfulness settled across them. None of them particularly liked faeries, simply because of past spats between Titania’s ilk and the pack-clan.

The elder paused and announced, “Prince Obera, from the Seelie Court, requests an audience with the heads of the Howell-Lester pack-clan.” She notably did not declare a single of its titles, of which it had many; instead, she gestured toward the prince grandly and then sidled over to an empty seat at a table.

“Primus Phil,” said the faery as it stopped the appropriate distance from their seats, about five metres away. “Alpha Dan.” It offered a brief bow, too shallow to be anything but perfunctory.

Phil had seen King Oberon himself bow deeper to him and Dan. He was quite unimpressed, tilting his chin as he stared down the faery. His teeth felt too sharp in his mouth, and he tested one fang against his lip, letting it dig into his flesh before releasing it abruptly. The faery’s gaze had tracked the movement, keen and dark.

“You requested a meeting as a commissary, not as a prince,” said Dan. Phil didn’t look over at him, but he could sense the wolf’s furrowed brows and set scowl. He heard Dan’s breathing deepen, the wolf’s nostrils expanding to pick up the faery’s elusive scent.

“My apologies,” said the faery smoothly. “I intended only to evade notice from any possible spies. The Unseelie Court has them everywhere.”

Phil raised an eyebrow, purposeful and careful. He recognized the insinuation that the faery was making - that their pack-clan had spies in their midst - but he elected to ignore it. He would never get anywhere if he picked at every thinly-veiled insult that the faery was likely to make. Instead, he said, “State your purpose, then.”

“Wait,” Dan rumbled beside him, and this time, Phil did look over at him.

They were a united front, he and Dan, ever since the merging of their pack and clan over a hundred years ago. There was no other way to stand against the first few uprisings from their own that had since settled into dedicated trust and loyalty, and now to prove to other creatures like the faeries that they were something to be respected, if not feared.

So, Phil might be surprised at the abrupt interruption, but Dan would not have done it for no reason. He leaned against the side of his chair, tapping his fingertips against his chin, and waited for the alpha to continue.

The faery didn’t move, but its gaze flicked from him to Dan, and then back again. Its eyes were a little too quick, a little too focused, and Phil narrowed in on it.

Dan stood suddenly, and his chair scraped against the cool marble floor with the movement. “Werewolves,” he said to the faery, and his voice was dropping into a growl that Phil knew preceded a shift, “can smell magick.”

“Oh,” said the faery, eyes bright as though the words didn’t mean anything to him, but they did. Few cared to remember that werewolves can detect magick simply by sniffing it. It was easier to think that wolves were simple, emotional creatures that were controlled by animal instinct.

“Oh,” Phil repeated. He didn’t look at Dan, who was bristling beside him, and instead crossed one leg over the other in an elegant motion. “Yes, _Prince Obera_. Care to explain yourself? Our rule against no magick inside the den is a strict one.”

The faery’s back was stiff as a board. “Well,” it said, and it paused, uncharacteristically. Faeries were known for their smooth tongues, despite their inability to lie. It was undoubtedly attempting to find a way out of this situation.

The wolves and vamps around the room were still seated or sprawled in the fur pile, but there was a clear tension among every one of them. The puppies had quieted, and some of the wolves had converged protectively around the few blood-humans in the room.

Dan took a step toward the faery. His nostrils were flared wide as he sucked in the faery’s scent. A growl began building in his chest, and when he glanced back, Phil could see that his teeth were lengthening and his ears starting to bristle with fur. “It’s a shifter,” he snarled, and then the faery moved.

It was sleek and eye-wrenchingly fast, but there was only one way out of the room and the wolves at the other end of the room were faster. It stopped before it ran into the shifted, snarling dozen wolves that blocked the door.

Dan was upon it in another instant, his massive wolf form crushing it to the floor as he clamped his jaw around the back of the faery’s neck. It screamed beneath the touch, but Dan was already picking it up, teeth sinking shallowly around its neck as he scruffed it like a disobedient pup. He dragged it back toward Phil, ears pinned back as the faery squirmed helplessly in his grip. Its feet barely touched the floor with Dan’s height, so it had no grip, and its toes slipped uselessly against the marble.

When Dan dropped it before Phil’s chair, he pressed a massive paw to its back and crushed it to the floor. Faeries were abnormally strong, but little could escape the might of an alpha in his shifted form, much less a shifter, which was one of the weaker faeries.

“This is interesting,” Phil commented to the faery sprawled facefirst on the floor in front of him. Around him, the vamps and wolves were settling back into their seats that they had sprung from, although the wolves at the far end of the room were still pacing back and forth in front of the door. The puppies had dived for cover, with some of them beneath the legs of shifted wolves and others in the arms of comforting vamps.

The faery hissed something unintelligible. Its long hair trailed over its face, concealing it from view. It still hadn’t dropped its magicked glamour, despite the danger it was in.

“I take it you’re not Prince Obera, then?” asked Phil, amused. He didn’t get an answer, although he didn’t expect one. The shifter just spat and glared up at Phil through its curtain of hair, one baleful eye resentful and furious.

Dan growled, dipping his muzzle to rest threatening teeth against the nape of the faery’s neck. It struggled against the touch, but couldn’t move.

“Why are you here?” Phil questioned. He still couldn’t bring himself to stand up. With Dan down there, what was the point? Here was their compatibility: Dan got to crush those who opposed them, while Phil stood free from the mess and spoke for them both. It was a good system.

“I’ll never tell you,” the shifter bit out.

Phil sighed. He rolled his hand in a sweeping motion toward Dan, and the alpha understood instantly. His muzzle parted and teeth flashed as he bit down on the faery’s neck, but it was no puppy scruff this time. A sickening crunch resounded in the room and then Dan dropped the shifter, nudging it with his nose. It was motionless, limp against the floor.

Faeries didn’t lie, after all.

Phil had watched with disinterest, and he waved now. One of the elder vamps and two werewolves slunk from the corners to collect the faery and drag it away. The doors thumped quietly as they left. The puppies slowly crawled back to their playing, and the growling wolves in front of the door drifted back to their fur pile.

Dan huffed and stalked back to Phil. He shifted in a swift, beautiful movement, and sprawled across Phil again. This time, he leaned against one armrest and threw his legs over the other. His mouth was twisted. “Faeries taste disgusting,” he complained.

“Mmm, stop biting them, then,” said Phil. He trailed a finger down the side of Dan’s face, pausing where his dimple caved in his cheek, and then rested his hand against Dan’s chest. “You look bored,” he observed.

“I _am_ bored,” said Dan. He closed his eyes and stretched against Phil, and then a smile darted across his face and he peered up at Phil. “I want to hunt.”

Phil glanced around the room. There were two “baby” vamps - vampires that had been turned less than a year ago - at one of the tables, and he considered them for a moment, thinking of areas in the city where he could teach them to hunt.

Dan seemed to know what he was thinking. “No,” he declared, and he drew Phil’s hand to his mouth and nipped at his fingers until Phil’s attention was back on him. His eyes were eager and bright. “Just the two of us, like old times.”

 _Old times_. Both of them, escaping from their responsibilities as a tired Primus of a vampire clan and a new alpha of a werewolf pack, had met in the thick forest just outside London and had fought until they were bloody. They had gained a mutual respect for each other and had met a few more times, fighting each time but growing ever closer, until one day when they walked out of the forest together and hadn’t parted since. The pack-clan had taken almost a decade to fit together, like a scattered puzzle, but eventually, they all fit together perfectly, and now there was no clan or pack more powerful in the whole of London.

Well, how could Phil refuse? It had been long enough since they’d gone hunting together. He felt a matching smirk crawl across his lips and Dan grinned. “Yeah, let’s do it,” said Phil.

Dan threw himself from Phil’s lap, shifting before he hit the floor. He shook out his coat, the rich mocha fur rippling at the movement, and crouched in anticipation. Phil stood, and in a swift motion, he leapt onto Dan’s back. He had never liked horses, even though they had been the main method of transportation for most of his long life, but Dan was nothing like that. He was powerful and lean beneath Phil, and the fur around his neck was thick and perfect to grip as he ran.

“We’re going hunting,” Phil announced, and the room as a whole turned to their leaders.

Two of the elder vamps and a wolf stood from the tables, already knowing their roles, and Phil nodded to them. They were trusted and smart enough to keep an eye on the place.

Dan rumbled a bark, and a few of the other wolves yipped back. A wolf jumped from the fur pile and pushed open one of the massive doors at the end of the room. Dan’s hackles smoothed, and Phil sank his hands into the fur around his neck. Phil leaned forward, tightening his legs around Dan. Dan’s legs tensed beneath him, his body coiling like a snake ready to strike, and then they were _off_.

It was time to hunt.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know your favourite line or moment! or just comment an emoji pls i will love anything
> 
> [pls reblog](https://itsmyusualphannie.tumblr.com/post/614531218852249600/kiss-me-on-the-mouth-set-me-free)


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